Long Lineal Poems
Long Lineal Poems. Below are the most popular long Lineal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lineal poems by poem length and keyword.
Time... is a transcendental sense of being
which exists in a perpetual passing that's relative
in a ceaseless motion that never moves
where tomorrows vanish and today becomes past
Time is an interval traveled across dimensions
of lineal value
of what is felt and what is unknown
like the timeless sensation of a kiss
measured in lengths of whispered breath
and heartbeats
Time is the gravity of yearning between lovers apart
as eyes meet from a distance
and moments become duration undivided
It is the scale used when seasons change into seasons
and movements are counted in days
into perpetuity
time is beyond our understanding
that we move within
using clock hands as reality
as we feel what can never be touched or measured
only imagined
except for the unbroken space
between birth and death
A very famous champion,
an inspiring enthusiastic man was he
Who has now departed , yet is quoted,
for many pearls of wisdom
Vociferous king ,
of the boxing ring
A sports star
And such a sport too.
A motivating peace star who shot up to deserved stardom
The earth be proud of such mortal "clay"
Who swayed and reigned hearts,
as well as the pugilist's kingdom
Notes: about the boxing Great:
These below are the selected facts about Muhammad Ali that I personally found very interesting:
First of all that he had the same birthday as my beloved bro Alihur i.e 17th Jan,
The info below is copied from Wikipedia:
Muhammed Ali Clay
Other names
The Greatest
The People's champion
The Louisville lip
Children9, including Laila Ali2]
Awards
5 time Ring magazine fighter of the year3-time lineal heavyweight championSports Illustrated 'Sportsman of the Century'BBC 'Sports Personality of the Century'CSHL Double Helix Medal Honoree (2006)Presidential Citizens MedalPresidential Medal of Freedom[4]International Boxing Hall of Fame[5]Hollywood Walk of Fame[6]
Cassius Clay was born and raised inLouisville, Kentucky, and began training as anamateur boxer when he was 12 years old. At 18, he won a gold medal in the light heavyweight division at the 1960 Summer Olympics in Rome, and converted to Islam shortly afterwards. At 22, he won the WBAand WBC heavyweight titles from Sonny Liston in 1964. Clay then changed his legal name from Cassius Clay, which he called his "slave name", to Muhammad Ali, and gave a message of racial pride for African Americans and resistance to white domination during the 1960s Civil Rights Movement.[12][13]
He was known to for freestyled with rhyme schemes and spoken word poetry, boxing and as political poetry for his activism,
Time is not lineal – in fact,
often stops and starts with
the pendulum of the heart
races ahead when joy
suffering can latch on and
drag with all the sympathy
of a rabid pit-bull – or divorce
lawyer
don’t know that I want to imagine
eternity – thinking it best I leave
that burden to God....
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All Refrains Are Not Poetry
We refrain from thinking of Time
as a limited commodity; but for
mortals, it may very well be. We tan
away on beaches, the Crap Tables
of Vegas – arguing with our loved
ones – tick, tick, tick. Overworking
can be negative. “Take time to be Holy” --
We imagine a blessed eternity to
compensate for questionable predilections.
Wasting of Time. Wasting of Time.
Tall steeples and stained glass pictorials
are spiritually transcending. Let’s hope,
if there is a heaven, that heaven is
yet indulgent of vintage intoxications.
I like to give all things
living personality --
wind, for instance, not just
complex science
but conscious velocity --
mindfully determining its own speed
and direction...
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Time is not all lineal
you know --
I often travel freely back
and forth,
casual jogs over stored memories --
The good ones require no careful stepping
While the bad can be minefields --
I wonder how you recall me?
Perhaps a mixture of pain and pleasure?
An occasional vintage along with the bicarbonate
Like those deeply grooved records we wildly
Danced to:
My confession, I yet listen to them…
Thinking fondly of you, ignoring the hisses and
Scratches. To be young again would be enough!